I Could See for Miles, Miles, Miles
Mar. 1st, 2018 12:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Art link: Artwork
Artist:
sagemb_amy
Fic Title: I Could See for Miles, Miles,
Miles
Author: VIII_XIII
Pairing(s): Arthur/Eames
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 13,385
Warnings: None
Summary: “This isn’t a hotel.” Eames tried to sit up and gave up before even getting his head off the pillows; he pouted, as though that were a thing for grown men to do, and Arthur merely watched as he then braced his right arm—the one that wasn’t black and blue from wrist to bicep and in a splint on top of that—on the bed and hauled himself into a very slightly more upright position slowly, grimacing as he did.
“No, it’s not a hotel,” Arthur said at last, holding out the mug. Eames took it, looked into it, and frowned deeply at it before dumping the small cocktail of pills it held straight into his mouth. Arthur took the mug back to pour some of the actual tea. “What the hell makes you think I’d take you to an AirBnB?”
“Well, I seem to have awoken in a very twee cabin.”
“Fuck you,” Arthur said, and he set the mug and the pot down a little roughly on the table at the head of the bed and went off to see if the cold snap had hung around long enough for the front steps to need salting.
Artist:
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Fic Title: I Could See for Miles, Miles,
Miles
Author: VIII_XIII
Pairing(s): Arthur/Eames
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 13,385
Warnings: None
Summary: “This isn’t a hotel.” Eames tried to sit up and gave up before even getting his head off the pillows; he pouted, as though that were a thing for grown men to do, and Arthur merely watched as he then braced his right arm—the one that wasn’t black and blue from wrist to bicep and in a splint on top of that—on the bed and hauled himself into a very slightly more upright position slowly, grimacing as he did.
“No, it’s not a hotel,” Arthur said at last, holding out the mug. Eames took it, looked into it, and frowned deeply at it before dumping the small cocktail of pills it held straight into his mouth. Arthur took the mug back to pour some of the actual tea. “What the hell makes you think I’d take you to an AirBnB?”
“Well, I seem to have awoken in a very twee cabin.”
“Fuck you,” Arthur said, and he set the mug and the pot down a little roughly on the table at the head of the bed and went off to see if the cold snap had hung around long enough for the front steps to need salting.